Admit It, You Lost
by Roxasolina Lombardi
Summary: The Devil is prideful. Even after getting walloped by the two brothers, he's still prideful. [Post-Game][DiceXDevil...?][Rated T because it's friggin Cuphead]


_**Admit It, You Lost**_

* * *

 _ **Summary  
**_ _In which denial is really strong in this one, and King Dice is just making it worse._

 _ **Disclaimer  
**_ _Studio MDHR._

 _ **Note  
**_ _DENIAL.  
King Dice x Devil...?  
#isawthefandomandiresponded_

 _ **Author Notes  
**_ _WELP, TIME TO WASTE MY LIFE._

 _ALSO, FIRST FANIFC IN FANDOM._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

"Boss."

It wasn't even formed as a question. Of course not. When you're the Man Downstairs, you don't get questions. Hell, in this situation, the Devil hasn't been looking for one.

"What do you want, Dice?"

It was also the time where, in such situations dire, he looks for one. When his right-hand man calls, it didn't sound like a question. Supposingly, the Devil thought that under circumstances, King Dice might have a question.

"You look like you been through hell."

Hah. That's one thing he liked about Dice: he can roll off jokes despite being in dire situations. It didn't occur to him that, even if Dice went down before him, he had it less than _he_ did.

Com'n, he had a _broken_ arm, and Dice just gets bandages on his head. His squared head. It makes the Devil envious at how those two blasted brothers not give him a lay down of their powers. Perhaps, it's because that _he_ was the one to make the deal, not Dice, and if that was the case, then their objective was the same.

Get everyone that worked for the Devil out. That's all.

"Ah, so do you."

It didn't look like it. In fact, if Satan was to compare, he had it _worst_ than Dice. He didn't have a broken arm or horn, that's for sure.

"Hmm. Perhaps, but my guess is that you had it worst than me."

Dice was leaning against the doorway of the Devil's office, his clothes in tatters and rips; it looked as if he came out of a knife fight, and _won_ said knife fight. This never ceases to amaze Satan, due to the many brawls that break out on the casino floor with the usually sleazily manager having to break it apart. He'll get cuts here and there, and he'll never be bothered by it.

"Aren't you just smart."

The Devil knew that Dice is still in his hands. All the brothers did was _just_ burn the ones they collected; no big deal over there.

"Hmm, and what makes you think that?"

"That you're smart? You just got _beat_ by teenagers! _**Teens**_! I'd say that's where stupidity comes from."

Frankly, he's telling himself that _he_ 's also stupid; he _**did**_ get walloped by teenagers as well; even worse than what Dice had. He shouldn't really be saying that, but he didn't want to say that-

" _Admit it_. You _**lost**_."

There he goes. He said it. The Devil, by all things, is prideful, and let Hell take him if he says that he lost to two brothers who are teens that really had no business in the Devil's casino in the first place.

"Hmph. There's no such thing as loss, Dice. We both know this."

It's true. Maybe he did lose; so what? Those soul contracts weren't even needed! Yeah, they weren't needed at all! It's not like those who evaded for far too long are not going to raise the population in Hell by a tenth.

"... You are sure bent on denying this loss."

"I am not denying!"

"Boss."

There it was again. The first thing he said in this conversation was that word. _Maybe he knew_ , the Devil thought. Maybe he knew that Old Scratch would be denying, as he was, once again, prideful.

Like a loss between two teenagers is deniability in disguise.

"... So what? What does that entitle to me?"

"Surely, you knew what happened."

"Of course!" Satan's patience is depleting. One thing he hates about Dice is no matter what's about to happen to him, he just _doesn't shut the_ _ **fuck**_ **up**. "I knew what the fuck happened!"

"... It appears not."

Satan had his trident poised and ready to smite Dice when a wave of confusion hits him like a brick wall. What? What the flipping fuck was that suppose to mean? Unless...

"You... _**wouldn't dare**_."

"And, I won't."

Another wave of confusion hits the Devil. Okay, so maybe those brothers somehow managed to get ahold of Dice's contract and burned it, meaning that King Dice is no longer bound to Hell and can walk out any time he likes. This should be an _advantage_ the Devil's talking about.

"Huh?"

So, why not take it?

"... Won't what? I want to know, since I'm not on the same page."

"You admit that when you _clearly_ do not **admit** that you lost to two teenagers?"

"Those are two _different_ things!"

They are... right?

"Well, the cup decides to burn _everyone's_ contract, including mine."

Ah, he meant not to walk out on him. But, that's an _advantage_ any **one** would take. Why is he not taking it?

"... Well, are you?"

"You know my answer."

The very first thing the Devil saw in this man, the very first time he saw the lad walk through those doors, was that his eyes-those vibrant, neon green eyes-were quite dull. He came around looking for him to sell his soul, the usual thing, and over the years made him climb up to the top as the right-hand man. And during that time, he noticed that his dull eyes were beginning to brighten.

Good grief, what is he thinking about?

"Well, then I suppose..."

Hmm, there might be some room for such feelings. He has no idea if he feels the same way, either. Being the Devil has its cons, too. A shark smile flashes on his face.

"...Losing sounds better instead."

* * *

 _ **Author Notes  
**_ _May or may not be a drabble...?  
I don't know._

 _Anyway, drop a like or a comment, whatever suits you. Critics, I welcome you to talk._

 _With that, au revoir, mes amis!_


End file.
